Too Sentimental
by Fowl Fox
Summary: Artemis Senior reflects on his past and the people he’s lost as he deals with his own current insecurities regarding his wife and son. Takes place between books 4 & 5 , as well as decades before then. More action than the description reflects. There will be violence.
1. At His Window

**Author's Note:**

Howdy, it's been a long time since I've posted to this site - I couldn't even tell you what my username back all those years ago. I've been lurking though, and was finally inspired to take up writing fanfiction again. Special shoutout to WolfButler for the encouragement. I won't beg for reviews but I would definitely appreciate them!

Basic Summary: Artemis Senior reflects on his past and the people he's lost as he deals with his own current insecurities regarding his family and friends. More action involved than it sounds. Descriptions of violence and other adult themes, but nothing too graphic.

So let's jump right into this.

Note: Edited on 12/19 because of course I noticed some glaring errors after publishing this.

* * *

 **April 14th, 1968**

 **Fowl Manor**

Adults were hard to understand, Artemis Fowl, not yet the First, thought to himself.

He was standing at his bedroom window on the tips of his toes, looking down at the grounds below. His mother could be seen in the rain sodden garden, pacing back and forth, her raven hair unusually untidy and her rather expensive shoes getting more and more ruined by the minute. She was paying no mind to the cold droplets clinging to her skin and dress, too busy muttering under her breath, with her thin arms crossed and shaking. His father could be heard in his study, his angry shouting echoing throughout the halls, which was no small feat in such a large manor. Artemis imagined he was pacing too, and was suddenly startled by the sound of something smashing against the door frame, most likely the ornate porcelain vase that had sat on the small telephone table near the study door.

When I'm in charge here, he thought, once again to himself, I'll soundproof the study.

His parents had been arguing for days; what had started in a passive aggressive fashion had slowly built up to the screaming match that preceded his mother's angry stampede into the cold rain. The argument was over his father, Aodh Fowl's, supposed friendliness towards his mother's pretty and affluent friend, Ms. Walsh, who had been spending more and more time at the manor as of late. Artemis was unsure why his mother was so upset- his father rarely got along with anyone except for his business partners, and even that was usually feigned politeness out of necessity. Shouldn't she be glad that for once her husband wasn't chasing away someone she cared for?

But she was most certainly not, and she had made that more than clear to her husband and every other resident of the manor. His father had ignored her at first, but patience was never his virtue, and soon he started snapping back at her.

Artemis usually did his best to stay out of his parent's business, which was his father's preference and his bodyguard's relief, but he couldn't shake his concern for his mother. Though often busy keeping their family in good social standing with the other aristocrats, Sophia Fowl was always ready to comb her delicate fingers through his hair and ask him how he was doing whenever their paths managed to cross during the day.

"Are you reading anything exciting, Artemis?" she'd ask, straightening his shirt and lightly patting his back. "Have you been doing well with your piano lessons?" She would smile slightly and rest her hand on his shoulder. It was the most physical and emotional affection he'd receive at home.

"Too sentimental," his father would gripe. "We're trying to raise a man, for God's sake."

Aodh was an imposing figure, tall and trim, with dark eyes and a no-nonsense scowl. He radiated power and importance, and his son wanted live up to his expectations. There was no excuse for stupidity or frivolity in his father's mind. A man worked hard, planned carefully, and put himself first. A man took what he wanted, however he had to. Artemis thought he wanted to be his father's idea of a man. But he was torn.

He also wanted to live up to his mother's expectations. Sophia Fowl was determined her son would be a gentleman, and had been trying to steer him towards far less vulgar things than the dirty money and shady politics that funded their family's wealthy lifestyle. She made sure that Artemis knew his manners, how to treat company, especially female company, and how to carry on a proper conversation. Piano teachers and ballroom dance instructors were brought to the manor when her husband wasn't home, which he often wasn't. It was a lot for a five year old boy, but so far Artemis had proved to be no ordinary boy.

He was not yet in school, but he had been quietly gathering information as soon as he was old enough to walk. One morning, as the family all sat together at the breakfast table in a rare moment of togetherness, he had pointed to the newspaper his father was browsing and read the headline out-loud to his parent's surprise.

Roger Casement Honoured with State Funeral, Reburial

At barely three years old, Artemis did not know who Roger Casement was, but it didn't matter. He could read with no trouble whatsoever, when he had barely spoken a word beforehand. His father was somewhat satisfied, his mother was distraught.

"No more newspapers, darling, let's find a nice book instead." she'd said, shooting a worried glance at her husband. Said husband had different ideas, however, and made sure to place the paper at his son's place at the breakfast table after he'd finished his own browsing. Artemis loved learning and reading, but hated his mother's downcast look when she caught him with a paper in hand. She was much happier with the picture books that had simple rhymes she had filled his nursery with, even though he was instantly bored of them. At the same time, he craved the slight look of approval his father would give him whenever he saw him with his nose stuck on an economical manual, or a political essay.

It was confusing to be caught between two people's conflicting desires.

Resolving to ask his bodyguard and his closest companion The Major about the complicated state of adult emotions later, he turned away from the window, intending to get back to his current book on Ichthyology and do his best to ignore his father's current tirade. The ocean and its inhabitants were fascinating to him, and he often thought of how much he'd like to take a boat far out into the ocean to see what creatures he could find. He had just settled into the small chair across the room with the book on his lap when an ungodly scream erupted from the garden below, and all hell broke loose at Fowl Manor.

The Major himself was, moments earlier, standing stiffly outside of Mr. Fowl's study, prepared to as his employer's own Butler put it, "run interference" should Mr. Fowl's temper continue to rise. He was concerned about Mrs. Fowl who had run out unaccompanied moments earlier, and even more concerned about his young charge in his bedroom, where he had holed up once his parent's argument hit shouting levels. _A damn shame it was_ , he thought, _for a_ _five year old to feel the need to hide from his family_.

"Too sentimental," Madam Ko would have scolded. "It's not your job to protect a charge's emotions, only his life. Getting too close makes you make irrational decisions at the most dangerous moments."

But despite years of training and the tattoo on his shoulder, The Major found himself unable to not care somewhat for the small child who's life rested in his hands. Artemis was quiet and curious, and would often come to him with book in hand and a question on his tongue.

There was the sound of something heavy slamming to the floor, and The Major, though not intimidated by any means, was relieved that he was out in the hall while the senior Butler was in there with their employer, presumably to keep him from hurting himself in his outburst. Aodh had always had a terrible temper.

In true Blue Diamond fashion, he did not jump when porcelain hit the doorframe suddenly. He waited to see if another crash would follow, or if Mr. Fowl would suddenly charge out of the study to find his wife. Neither happened, though, so he continued to wait.

Then the ungodly scream from the garden reached his ears.

Instructions to stay put outside the door were immediately forgotten. The Major drew his pistol from its shoulder holster and raced towards his charge's bedroom. He heard heavy footsteps behind him going towards the stairs- the senior Butler would be heading towards the grounds to assess the situation and try to contain it. The junior Butler would join him later- his primary task was to secure his own charge.

Reaching Artemis' room, he paused long enough outside the door to make sure no signs or sounds of danger were present, and then threw it open. His charge was stock-still at the window, fingers clinging desperately to the glass as he looked down below. There was no color in his already pale skin. The only other thing out of place in the room was a large book laying spread open on the ground, as though someone had hastily thrown it down. The bodyguard quickly crossed the room and grabbed his charge around the middle, pulling him away from the window wordlessly and out of the pathway if any possible stray gunfire from below, even though he had yet to hear any. He ignored the instinct to look at what was causing the commotion below, instead heading carefully out of Artemis' room, checking every visible doorway and corner for hostile movement as he went.

Artemis snapped out of his shock induced stupor once they had rounded the first corner, thrashing wildly but ineffectively in his bodyguard's grip.

"My mother!" he yelped, unusually shrill for this particular five year old. "My mother, Major!"

The Major ignored his cries for now, focusing instead on getting his charge into the safest place possible at the moment. Fowl Manor had plenty of secrets, and with the boy tucked to his side, he strode quickly but quietly towards the third floor stairway, gun at the ready. Staying close to the walls while shielding his charge with his body, his eyes rapidly scanned the hall as he reached the top step, ears perked for any sound of life. Nobody so far had crossed their path; the manor's generously paid security team was functioning correctly and had moved strategically to secure all the entrances. No footsteps on the stairway other than his, only the faintest of echoes down in the entrance hall. Good.

He heard a familiar voice too, harsh and commanding. Aodh Fowl had left his study, intent on following his Butler down to the grounds, and was giving out orders to the security team that trailed them.

"The gate!" he shouted, his voice only somewhat strained from his earlier tirade, "Don't let anybody in or out!" Unnecessary directions, really, as the security team had been drilled by the senior Butler thoroughly and knew very well where they were supposed to go. But nobody would be talking back to the man who signed their paychecks. Instead they kept their focus on the situation on hand.

 _Where and how was our security breached?_ The Major wondered briefly wondered, before clearing the thought and focusing on his main objective - removing his charge from danger and securing him in a safe location. There would be time for investigation later, provided something didn't kill them all.

Another pained scream erupted from the grounds, though at their height it was nearly impossible to hear. Nearly. Artemis stiffened under his arms, but The Major did not pause or even slow down until he reached his destination. He tripled checked his surrounds, ensuring once again that they were alone. He reluctantly holstered his pistol for the moment in order to effectively do what he needed to.

Pulling back a large, almost garish Turkish rug away from the floor of a rarely used guestroom, he allowed himself the briefest second of relief. A hinge-less door panel that was near invisible to the naked eye had been hidden in this room over a century ago. It was just big enough to conceal a small child, and even had a small slot at the bottom of the nook to keep it from being airtight and suffocating it's occupant- anyone looking at the ceiling in the second floor storage closet for whatever reason would only see a small hole in the wood, not unusual in any old building.

Running his fingers down the slight seam, he quickly found the minute dip that allowed him to lift the panel and carefully but firmly placed Artemis in the nook. The boy was tense, but to his credit did not cry or reach back for his bodyguard's hulking form.

"Stay here, sir." he said, resting a large hand on the young boy's shoulder. "Be quiet and don't move until someone lets you out of here."

Artemis was not crying, but he was breathing heavily, fingernails digging into his arms, which were crossed across his chest like a small corpse in a small coffin. "My mother, Major!" he choked out.

"Sir," The Major repeated firmly, not letting go of his shoulder. "I need you to be quiet, and I need you to stay here. You remember what to do if someone happens to find you, correct?"

Artemis looked up at his bodyguard, trying to mirror the calm on the face above his, willing himself to be quiet. There was nothing he could do, he realized, but leave it to the adults. He nodded slowly, closing his eyes and calming his breathing as The Major had once taught him to do. Momentarily disturbed by the sight of his charge in such a state, his bodyguard squeezed the boy's shoulder in the most comforting gesture his instilled professionalism would allow, and carefully placed the panel back down, replacing the rug, and triple checking to make sure nobody was around.

Grimly, he walked back towards the hall and quickly down the stairs, his entire body on alert, pistol redrawn. The Fowl Family portraits were the only eyes on him as he descended. He made no sound.

 _I will be back, Artemis_ , he thought as he rounded the corner of the stairway, heading to the first floor and then towards the kitchen entrance-way. He checked to make sure he was clear, and then headed stealthily out of the rear door and towards the horrid commotion in the side garden, making sure nobody trailed him. Everyone who wasn't guarding a doorway or gate was headed towards the garden that laid below his charge's window, and The Major steeled himself for conflict.

 _Whatever happens, Artemis, I'll come back._

On the manor's third floor, laying still in the darkness of his hiding spot, Artemis Fowl, not yet the First, tried to think about anything besides his mother and her blood scattered on the barely blooming dianthus.

* * *

Author's Notes:

For those wondering about my timeline here:

Taking into account Artemis the Second's birthday in Sept. 1988, I wanted to place Artemis Senior around 25 then, so I've made his birthday Feb. 1963. The Major will be in his early twenties, at this time, fresh out of Madam Ko's academy. Angeline is a bit younger than her future husband.

The "Present Time" of the story takes place in the time period between The Opal Deception and The Lost Colony, so no Fowl Twins at this time. It's the early 2000's still - Artemis is not yet 14. Artemis Senior is coming up on 40, Angeline is around 36. I will stick close to cannon but there may be a divergence here or there - Colfer himself was prone to changing some details when needed.

Things are a bit unstable in Ireland during the 60's 70's when Artemis Sr. is a child and teenager, and there's no way the Fowl family ain't involved with their high status and criminal background, so expect references to the civil issues at that time.

Anyway, thank you for reading! Reviews are much appreciated, and I'll do my best to update in the next couple of days.


	2. A Twist in the Gut

**Author's Note:** I noticed (after I published, of course) some instances of auto-correct replacing words that I did not catch in my original error search. I plan to go back and fix this, but for the moment I am more focused on actually getting the story done. I apologize for the errors - I type these stories mostly on my phone since I don't have full-time access to a computer.

Thank you to my reviewers: 2whitie and Eldewind Dolly! I really appreciate your interest and feedback.

And now, let's get back to it.

* * *

 **August 4th, 2003**

 **Fowl Manor**

Angeline had woken her husband excitedly that morning, and once she had finally managed to get him out of bed she had rushed him around their large bedroom suite, practically tossing him his clothes and gathering his various affects for him. He was attempting to tuck in the sky blue dress shirt Angeline had gotten him for his birthday when she all but shoved him towards the door.

"Darling," he said, somewhat exasperated, simultaneously fixing his half-tucked shirt and twisting his watch band over his wrist. A business jet-setter's talent, handy for tight schedules between flights and inopportune knocking on your office door when your wife had stopped by to give you a very special visit. "What's the occasion?"

He had run through his mental calendar twice now; Angeline's birthday wasn't until next month, his was already past, Arty's wasn't until next month, and it wasn't the couple's anniversary until the end of December. He could not figure out the cause of his wife's excitement. She stopped them at the bottom of the stairs, turning and placing her hands on his shoulders.

"Arty's presentation in Dublin, it's this morning. That music project he's been working on. You don't remember?"

He certainly didn't remember. He couldn't recall even being told.

"Arty's working on music?" he asked.

His wife's smile faltered for a second. "Of course he is, he's been working on this ever since we pulled him from school."

They had taken their son out of St. Bartleby's and placed him in day school- at which his tenure managed to last about two weeks. A few angry phone calls from the administration later and Artemis was swiftly pulled out of school, his exasperated parents agreeing that maybe some sort of homeschooling was the better option for their genius son.

" _That place was ridiculous," Artemis Jr. had said, sitting in the back of the Bentley with his mother, talking to his reflection in the window. "The teachers there were even more simplistic than the ones at Bartleby's, and the students might as well have been monkeys stuffed into khaki pants."_

 _His father sat in the front passenger seat trying to look miffed, but couldn't quite pull it off. Day School had been doomed from the start and he'd known it. In fact, he was surprised it had taken two whole weeks for Arty to get himself kicked out. Butler didn't even try to look anything but amused, looking back at his charge just long enough to raise an eyebrow._

 _Angeline on the other hand, had been clearly upset. "It's not about the lessons or even the teachers, Arty. It's about the socializing! You have no friends," She held up a hand as Artemis turned to respond, stopping him momentarily. "No friends your age! Doesn't that bother you?"_

 _Had her son been any other teenager in the world, he would have rolled his eyes. Instead he just calmly responded that no, he was not bothered, he had much better things to do, and that he would much rather be friends with actual khaki-clad monkeys than the other teenagers he had encountered._

 _Angeline turned to her own window and sighed, giving up for now. Her boy was stubborn, just like his father. It was a trait she managed to both admire and dislike. Artemis Senior decided to stay out of it. He knew how his son felt, but he didn't want to make his beloved wife feel like she was wrong to worry. And if he was being honest with himself, she wasn't wrong to worry, even if she couldn't understand how frustrating it was to be surrounded by people who didn't understand half of the words that came out of your mouth._

Mentally coming back to his current conversation, he shrugged his shoulders and gave his wife an apologetic look. "I honestly didn't know, Angel. He's often in his room or his study, and I don't want to pry too much into his business."

"It's not prying to keep up with up with your son's interests, Timmy," she sighed. "But never-mind that, we should get breakfast and then head out." She turned back around and strode towards the kitchen. Artemis Senior followed her, almost feeling a bit put out. Surely his son would be more forthcoming with his current projects if he wanted his father to know about them? Artemis had never been one to seek out his parent's praise; he had never turned up at his father's study with a crayon drawing, or rushed through the manor to show his mother that he had managed to tie his shoes by himself. The boy had taught himself to walk, for god's sake, his parents had awoken one morning to find him pulling himself along the walls of his nursery.

Artemis Junior was at the table already, conversing with Butler, who was setting up for breakfast. Both looked up at the couple's entry.

"Good morning Mother, Father." said Artemis.

"Good morning Arty," his mother said warmly. "Did you sleep well?"

"I'm rested enough, Mother."

Artemis Senior nodded to his son as he sat down at the table. "Everything ready for your presentation?"

"Yes Father," he paused for a moment. "Will you be attending?"

"Of course he will," said Angeline before her husband could respond. "We're both coming today." Artemis Senior just nodded, suddenly feeling strangely out of place at the breakfast table. He thanked Butler when his plate was sat in front of him and focused on eating for the rest of the meal, listening but not really participating. Angeline did most of the talking that morning, asking her son typical questions about what his schedule was, what did he want to do after the presentation, would he know anybody there, and so on and so forth. Artemis Junior, in typical fashion, gave bland, polite responses. Finally, when everyone was finished eating, Artemis Senior decided to ask a question himself.

"What sort of music is this anyway, Arty?"

His son looked at him, and Artemis Senior recognized amusement. It was the same sort of look a teacher would give their five year old student when asked what sort of cheese the moon was made out of.

"I'm not presenting music, Father. This is a convention for inventors, not musicians. I'm presenting new sound technology. Speakers, to be exact. The sound quality will be unlike like anything on or off the market."

Artemis Senior was embarrassed, but he did not show it. Masking his emotions was one of his best skills. He did glance at his wife however. _You could have been a little more clear_ , he thought in her direction. As if she could read his mind, she gave him a look that said _well, you could have asked for more details_.

"I see," he said to his son. "Well, knowing you, your audience will be picking their jaws up off the floor."

"Indeed," said Artemis Junior, getting up from the table. "If you'll excuse me, I need to take care of a few things before we leave."

"I thought we were in a hurry?"

The boy raised an eyebrow in response.

"Very well then, we'll be here when you're ready."

When their son had left the room, Artemis Senior sighed, looking back over at his wife. "He must think I'm an idiot."

"Of course he doesn't," said Angeline said reassuringly. Her husband was not convinced.

 **Clayton Hotel and Conference Venue, Dublin**

Artemis' presentation had, as expected, gone off without a hitch. Artemis Senior once again found himself impressed by his son's talents. Once the panel was over and everyone stood to mingle, he worked his way through the crowd with Angeline right behind him. Artemis was off to the far side of the room, speaking with a small group, answering questions, with Butler right by him, eyes continually scanning the room.

Artemis saw his parents approaching and excused himself from the group, walking over to meet them.

"Oh Arty, that was incredible!" his mother gushed. Artemis Senior nodded in agreement.

"I wouldn't expect anything less from you, son."

Artemis Junior looked almost sheepish for a brief moment, before his expression defaulted back to his usual passive one. "Thank you Mother, Father. I need to speak to someone for a moment, could regroup shortly?"

"Sure, son." said Artemis Senior. "Just call us when you're ready." His son nodded and then began to weave his way through the crowd, Butler right behind him, as always.

"Shall we head to the lobby, darling?" asked Angeline. "It's awfully stuffy in here." Artemis Senior agreed, taking her arm in his as he once again worked through the crowd. When they reached the lobby, they were fortunate enough to find an unoccupied pair of chairs, and sat down to wait for their son.

They ended up waiting for well over an hour. Angeline was growing restless, they had run out of things to talk about and had been people watching since then. Artemis Senior found himself growing anxious. He was trying to decide whether or not to text his son a quick inquiry as to how much longer his meeting was going to last when to his relief he saw Butler's towering figure working towards them, Artemis in tow. The boy was slightly out of breath.

"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting. We were stopped for questions by a few people on our way back." he explained to his parents. Angeline nodded and quickly rose from her seat, at this point simply relieved to move on with the rest of their day. Artemis Senior found himself unsatisfied with the excuse, however. Something seemed off, though he wasn't sure what. His son almost seemed uneasy with their surroundings. As good as he was at concealing his emotions, it was one of the few areas Artemis Senior still had his son beat; he'd worn that mask far too many times. The minute glance towards Butler gave him pause. There was also the fact that Butler had led Artemis into the lobby when he usually positioned himself behind.

"Well, you're here now. Shall we go for lunch?" Angeline asked, while her husband took his time getting up, pushing his thoughts to the back of his mind and concentrating on his balance. If he didn't carefully put his weight on his prosthetic leg, he could easily topple backwards. It had happened twice so far since he had been fitted, and he wasn't eager for a third performance in a crowded lobby of esteemed scientists. It was bad enough when Juliet Butler had laughed at him the last time it happened, though she had been just respectful enough to make sure he wasn't hurt first.

Artemis nodded. "Yes, Mother. Wherever you'd like." Angeline laughed, and Artemis Senior smiled, despite everything else. He loved to hear his Angeline laugh.

The rest of the day had been admittedly pleasant, but Artemis Senior couldn't fully enjoy it. His mind was stuck on his son's hour long absence. He knew very well what all could happen in an hour. He also knew his son hadn't gone 100% legal in his activities. So far what all he had managed to find out had been, in his opinion, harmless. He had made a discreet trip to the Louvre shortly after _The Fairy Thief_ had been 'mysteriously' donated to the public, and he had admired it in a similar fashion to most parents admiring their kids football trophies. When more paintings and artifacts began showing up courtesy of their 'anonymous' donor, he had collected newspaper clippings and articles on the subject, keeping them locked up in the wall safe hidden in his study. Despite knowing his son was responsible, he couldn't bring himself to talk to his son on his current Robin Hood-esque hobby, and he didn't dare bring it up to Angeline after he had assured her that the family would be going completely legitimate.

But this he couldn't let this current suspicion be. Something was twisting in his gut, as The Major would have put it, and he had learned over years to trust that feeling. Artemis Senior suspected his son was involved in something a bit bigger than recovering lost paintings and stolen artifacts.

When they arrived home that evening, Artemis Junior bid his parents goodnight and retreated to his room. Angeline insisted she was unusually tired, and gave her husband a quick kiss before heading to bed early.

Artemis Senior decided to head to his study, which he had reclaimed from son not too long after his return from the Helsinki hospital. He sat at his desk and opened the top right drawer, quickly and efficiently disabled the hidden alarm mechanism. In it a small black book filled with his own neat script; it contained several names and methods of contact, as well as notes on favors owed to and from him. He flipped towards the back and located the cell number of a Mr. Victor Boucher, an Interpol officer that he had been in contact with since their first encounter in Barcelona. Victor had been there to gather evidence against a group of smugglers. Artemis Senior had been there to 'convince' them to take their services elsewhere.

It had proven to be a good opportunity for both of them.

He pulled out his own cell phone from his pocket and flipped it open, dialing the number and leaning back in his chair. It was later in the evening over in France, but he felt it was best to get this call over with as soon as possible. It rang several times before finally connecting. A deep, tired voice answered.

" _Irlande_ on the phone. It has been a while. You do realize it is past my bedtime, _oui_?"

" _Excusez-moi_ , Victor. I have just returned home. I'm calling in a favor."

Victor's laugh sounded like a donkey coughing. "Do not _excusez-moi, Irlandaise_. The sound is terrible in your accent. I will of course do you a favor," he paused, carefully considering his next question. "You are in retirement, _oui_?"

"In that sense, yes, I am. But I still need an insider's insight." Artemis Senior waited patiently. Phone calls likes this one had to carried out carefully. You never knew who was listening.

"What do you need to know?"

"The fledgling has been straying a bit from the nest, recently. Can you let me know if it's been up to anything out of ordinary?"

Interpol had been keeping tabs the Fowls since it was founded in the 1920's, and had dug up information on them since well before that from various other sources. There was never enough evidence to charge anyone with anything, but there was no shortage of suspicious activity in the family to be monitored. Until recently, that is. Now there was only one Fowl who was causing more data to be added to Interpol's network servers, although his father did not kid himself with thinking he would ever be in the clear with the organization. When you had a reputation like his, it tended to last.

"I will check on the baby bird. You will let me get to sleep. I will call you soon."

"Thank you." The call was immediately disconnected. Artemis Senior groaned and leaned back in his chair. The gnawing in his stomach had yet to cease. He knew he was getting himself into something.

He just hoped that it was something he could get his son out of.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

Alrighty. We're about to go back a few decades in the next chapter, so get ready for that! And as I said last time, I appreciate any feedback I can get. But even if you just read without reviewing, I appreciate your interest too.


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